


Saving a Penny

by spikesgirl58



Series: Working Stiffs [65]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E.
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-21
Updated: 2013-12-21
Packaged: 2018-01-05 09:42:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1092430
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spikesgirl58/pseuds/spikesgirl58
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A Working Stiffs tale - UNCLE was the sort of organization that needed a lot of money to operate.  This working stiff is the man responsible for guarding the bank, but that doesn't make him Scrooge... does it?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Saving a Penny

People call me a Scrooge, but they just don’t understand.  It’s my job to watch the money, safeguarding it until we need it.  I won’t let them waste it.

I’m sorry, let me back up a bit.  Banking has always run in our family.  My grandfather was a bank president, as was my father.  It was assumed that I would follow in their footsteps and I was prepared to.  I took all the right classes at the right schools.  I knew the right people, said the right things and dated the right women.  

Then one day my father was gunned down by a robber and I suddenly was consumed with the lust for revenge that knew no boundaries.  I wanted to hunt him down and make him hurt the way I was hurting.  It wouldn’t bring my father back, but at least I hoped to see a flash of desperation and hopelessness in his eyes that matched the one in my heart.

I went to the nearest pawn shop to purchase a gun.

“I want a gun – the biggest one you have.”

The man behind the counter whistled.  “Those are expensive.”

“Money is no issue.”  The words should have stuck in my throat sideways, but such was my need for revenge that I barked them out without conscious thought.

He retrieved a weapon from behind the counter and set it on the glass top.  It was big and heavy.  I liked how it felt in my hands.  “Do you need instructions?”

“No, I handled a rifle in the military.  I need bullets.  How do you load it?”

There was suddenly a hand on my arm, squeezing it gently.  I looked over at the man, small and unassuming.  “There’s another way,” he said softly.  

Somehow, that small and unassuming man was able to talk me off the ledge and steer me down a path to justice.  He took me under his wing and guided me to a place where I could make a difference, not just in my life, but for everyone else as well. That was the day I learned about compassion and UNCLE and was kept from making the biggest mistake of my life.  For that, I would be forever grateful.

UNCLE is an international organization that safeguards the world from itself and the maniacs who want to do it harm.  That takes money – a lot of it.  Alexander Waverly is the top honcho and he gets all the press, but I’m the one who makes UNCLE work.  I hold the purse strings and I am a hard taskmaster.

A machine like UNCLE would implode very quickly if someone wasn’t sitting there in the shadows, crunching numbers and counting the pennies.  Alex is a good judge of the worth of a man, but he will never have two pennies to rub together in the business sense.  Thankfully, he doesn’t have to.  He has me for that.

I run a tight ship and I don’t believe in wasting anything, be it money, time or petty conversation.  There was one man, Collins, who had been with me for years and I don’t even know his first name, much less anything else about him.  He sat quietly at his desk, doing his work.  He arrived and left on time.  He was never late back from lunch or his coffee break and his books always balanced.  What more did I need to know?

Then, one day he was gone.  I was told he dropped dead on his way out of the building.  I… I didn’t go to his funeral.  I was too busy with trying to do everything until they sent me a replacement, although I knew that would never happen.  He was my idea of a perfect co-worker

The young man, Alberts, they sent me was a talker.  He was always running at least three minutes late.  He was always laughing and happy, even though he was as poor as a church mouse.  He had a loving wife, three small children stuffed into a small apartment in the Bronx and they were as content as could be.  He had everything I lacked.

I hated him.

I wished Collins was back.  He was a good man of business.

I was closing up for the evening, ignoring all the cheer and jolliness around me.  With my father gone, I had no one to be merry with.  All the right people had dropped me like a brick when I left the business for UNCLE.  They saw the move as less than beneficial to them.  If they only knew how really powerful I was now.  They had an institution to safeguard; I had the world.

“I will see you tomorrow,” I muttered to no one in particular.

“But tomorrow is Christmas,” Alberts muttered.  “We’re closed… aren’t we?”

“I don’t see why we should be. Evil is evil.  It has no holiday.”  Alberts knew better than to argue with me.  It would be a fool’s war.  “Very well.  I will see you on the 26th and try to be on time for a change.”

“Yes, sir.”  He touched his forehead and preceded me out the door.  I could not understand how he could move so fast at quitting time and lag behind the rest of the time.  He left so quickly, he neglected to pick up our outgoing mail.  

Sighing, I gathered up the envelopes and memos and tucked them into my briefcase.  I would stop by the mailroom before leaving.

The night was bitter and I was hesitant to go out into it.   I had nothing and no one to hurry home to.  Instead I headed down to the Canteen.  The official UNCLE party had been days earlier and most of the personnel who lagged behind now either didn’t have any place to be or didn’t want to leave.  UNCLE was made up of a great many people like me – alone and content to be that way.

I was sipping a cup of very bad coffee when I caught movement in my peripheral vision.  To my amazement, it was Collins.

“Wha – what are you doing here?” I blurted out.  “They told me you were dead.”

“To you, I am.  I was… transferred to another section.”  He sat down and sighed.  “I miss my old job.  The new one, it leaves much to be desired.  I am not social by nature and all I seem to do is visit with people these days.  I just wanted to know what a pleasure it was to work with you.”

“I… I miss you.”  It was hard to admit that, to him and to myself.

“Alberts will come along.”

“Will he?”

“He’s young.  We were both young, once upon a time.  Why are you still here?”   

“I’ve no place to go but home.”  I saw him sigh again.  “Stay with me.  Have a cup of coffee.  Talk to me.”

“We never did have time for that while I was at my old job.  There is no point in starting it now.”  He seemed to be listening to something and then nodded.  “I need to leave you now.  Please, change now while you can or you will find yourself in an equally disagreeable position.”

I snorted and took a drink of coffee.  When I looked back up, he was gone.  The man was always able to slip in and out of a room faster than anyone else I knew of.

I wanted to leave, but I also wanted to stay.  A few people were scattered about, talking, laughing, or just sitting in companionable silence.  Then I saw Tom Kelly and raised a hand in greeting.  He was the man responsible for my job here and I owed him such a debt of gratitude.

“Young Nichols, you are still here.”  Tom had a tray in his hands.  It was from the hot line and the roast beef smelled pretty good.  It had a lovely brown gravy dribbled over it and pooled around the potatoes and vegetables   I made a mental note to eat before I left.  All I had at home was canned soup.

“Not really excited about going out in the cold.”  I gestured to the chair Collins had just vacated.

“I know what you mean.  No family to hurry home to makes these holidays a bit bothersome.”

“True.”

“But you have friends.”  

“No, not really.”  I didn’t want to go down that path.  “So what are you doing here?  I would think there would be people clamoring to have you join them.”

“Ah, you would think so, but, alas, not at the moment.”  He speared a piece of potato and chewed it slowly.  “What were Christmases like when you were a boy?”

“Not much of anything.  I didn’t get along with my stepmother, so I spent most of them at boarding school.  Dad tried to make the day right, but she usually was able to muck it up somehow.  She was always doing things behind Dad’s back and then laughing at me when he sided with her.”

“Ah, the evil stepmother.  What became of her?”

“Dad caught her with another man and sent her packing.  She fell off my radar after that.”

“Karma.  No brothers or sisters?”

“I had one.  She was as lovely and sweet as the day was long.  She fell hopelessly in love with a penniless man.  Dad disowned her for it and insisted I break off all contact.  I don’t even know where she is anymore.”

“Shame.  Family is important, especially for this holiday.”

“After his wife left, I would spend the holiday with Dad and we had fun.  There was always a big party at the bank where he was a co-partner.”  I sighed, happy with the memories.  “Those were the good days.”

“You miss your father.”

“Very much.”  Strangely enough, I didn’t realize how much until that moment.  “Thank you, Tom.”

He looked puzzled.  “What for?”

“For this job, for saving me from a life behind bars.”  I smiled.  “For sitting and talking to me for a few minutes.  Most of the people around here avoid me.”

“They are worried you are after their budgets.”  

“If they don’t overspend, they have nothing to fear from me.”  That brought a laugh.  Most of the sections overspent, especially Section Two.  Usually just the thought of me was enough to make them run scared.  Big brave Section Two agents, my ass.

Tom wiped his mouth and stood.  “If you will excuse me, I must get back to it… if I can remember what ‘it’ is.”  He patted me on the shoulder.  “Some advice, young Nichols.  Reach out to people.  You may never know when the next person you meet will become your best friend.”

“Thanks, Tom.”

“Merry Christmas.”

I nodded.  I couldn’t say the words.  They stuck in my throat and reminded me of everything I’d lost.

My coffee was cold and even bitterer now, a bit like my mood.  I got up and started to walk to the coffee urn.  In doing so, I passed close by a table occupied by Alex’s golden boys, Agents Solo and Kuryakin.  A more unlikely pair you weren’t likely to find, yet they seemed perfectly suited for each other.

“Okay, so if I pick you up at seven, we can get down to the shelter before nine and then over to Aunt Amy’s by noon.”  Solo was ticking things off on his fingers.  “The truck will pull up to the dock.  I’ve conned a couple others into helping us by--” He broke off when seeing me.  “Ah, Mr. Nichols, you wouldn’t be interested in helping us tomorrow, would you?”

I nearly sneered at him, but caught myself at the last minute.  “To do what?”

“We’re taking packages over to the women and children’s shelter in the morning.  We could always use a hand.”

“Indeed, and where did these packages come from?”  I waited for the answer I was sure was coming.  They’d picked through some of our own resources to put them together.  We had warehouses full of confiscated items, items that could be resold or auctioned off to our benefit.  There was nothing beneficial about giving them away.  I’d even caught Alex opening up the doors for charities.  I have to watch these guys like hawks.

“Never fear, Mr. Nichols.  They are items that have been purchased throughout the year by various agents.”  Kuryakin’s voice always surprised me.  A damn Ruskie and he spoke with a polished English accent.  “You will find UNCLE storage facilities undisturbed and everything there accounted for.”

I could hear an underlying warning in his voice, but he didn’t scare me – too much.  “That’s good.  Thank you for the invitation, but I will be working tomorrow.”

“Working?  I thought you boys in Accounting got the day off.”  Solo was polite but his voice held no warmth for me.

“Perhaps the boys do.  However, I will be working.”  I moved away from them and heard Solo murmur.

“Now there’s someone who could use a good dose of Christmas spirit.”

“Perhaps next year.”  Kuryakin’s answer puzzled me.

Suddenly I remembered the mail in my briefcase and checked my watch.  If I hurried, I would just make the last mail.

I didn’t have time for the elevator, so I took the stairs instead.  That was a big mistake.  In hurrying down the stairs, I lost count, a first for me, and ended up at the bottom of the stairwell.  It was freezing and smelled badly of mildew or mold, or perhaps both.

I muttered under my breath and turned to head back up the stairs.  My foot hit something slick and I slipped.  I heard a crack and then nothing.

When I woke, I had no sense of time passing and yet I knew it must have.  I felt frozen and my face was caked with what I assumed to be dried blood.

I looked up and saw someone standing there.  I couldn’t see his face because of the fluorescent light and the hood that was pulled low.  

“He-elp me.”

The head shook and I felt a sudden wave of desperation.  No one knew I was down here.   It would be days before anyone would come looking, if anyone ever did.  No one would miss me, not really.  Alberts certainly wouldn’t.   In fact, he’d probably advance into my spot.

“Please, don’t leave me,” I begged as the form turned away from me.  “Please…  I don’t want to die.”  Of course, he had no reason to turn back.  I treated him poorly.  I treated everyone poorly.

I tried to move, but needles of pain shot down my legs.  I was paralyzed and when I looked back, I was alone.  No one cared… no one would know…

Tears trickles down my cheeks, hot against my skin.  “Please, please, please,” I begged over and over.

 

“Mr. Nichols, are you okay?”  

My eyes opened and I was sitting at my desk.  My sweet, lovely wonderful desk.  Alberts was bending over me.  “What…”  I coughed and tried again.  “What are you doing here?”

“Forgot the mail and came back to get it.”  He settled a hand on my shoulder.  “You don’t look well, Mr. Nichols.”

“To the contrary, I feel better than I have in years.”

“Still… listen, I know we haven’t exactly gotten on, but why don’t you come home with me and have a bit of Christmas cheer.  We like to have family and friends over this evening”

“You’d… I’m a friend?”

Alberts held a hand out to me.  “I’d like to think so, sir.”

“Samuel.”

“Pardon?”

“My name is Samuel… May I call you Robert?”

“Nope.”

“Oh…”

“It’ll have to be Bob if you want me to answer.”  He grinned and I smiled back.  “Robert is my dad.”

“All right, Bob.”

“Let me just drop this off and I will meet you in Reception.”  He was off like a shot and I admired how enthusiastic he was.

“I’ll be there.”

I gathered up my coat and started for the elevator.  It opened and Agents Solo and Kuryakin were standing there.  Both of them looked at me a bit warily as I grinned.  “Merry Christmas, gentlemen.”

“Happy Christmas,” Kuryakin answered.

“Mr. Solo, am I correct is assuming you will be taking your annual contribution of gifts to the shelter tomorrow?”

He exchanged a look with his partner.  “Yes, Mr. Nichols, that’s right.”

I dug a key from my pocket.  “Here.  This is to the storage facility on the seventh floor.   If there’s anything there that you think you can use, feel free.”

“Sir?”  He was wary of my change of heart.

“Let’s just blame it on the season and speak no more of it, Mr. Solo.”

“Thank you, sir.  You have made many people very happy.”

He and Kuryakin got out at the next floor, already deeply embroiled as to what they needed to accomplish now that this new opportunity presented itself.

Solo hesitated and then held the door open.  “Sir, we will be delivering everything tomorrow morning.”

“I’d love to help, Mr. Solo.  Just tell me when and where.”  With each word, my heart felt a bit lighter and by the time the elevator doors closed, I felt like a feather.

I reached into my pocket for my gloves and my fingers brushed against something.  I pulled out a slip of paper.  On it was my sister’s name, address and phone number.  I don’t know how it got there, nor did I care.   It was Christmas and, for once, that was all that mattered to me.  I was going to have Christmas with my family.

 


End file.
